Survivors Of War
by QueenOfTheFlame
Summary: Ashleigh is thrown into the world of war when her village is attacked. She manages to escape from them with the help of eight soldiers. Soon she become a valued member of their team! I highly recommend you read this if you like war stories because I don't write in a boring way at all - I'm sure you'll all enjoy this;)
1. Chapter 1

** E**

"Grab them! Take them all! Take the_ whole damn village_!" The man shouts.

Ever since a child my German has been fluent, as well as my Russian and French. Now, the words this officer barks at his men has my heart racing.

My eyes dart across to my mama. She clutches baby Jimmy to her chest and he screams and wails.

I see it right then – I have to protect her at all costs. Mamas pretty for her age – the older men will go straight for her, even some of the younger ones. The baby – they'll kill him instantly.

"Mama, go find John, he'll help you – I'll try to distract them."

"No, no, Ashleigh! _No_!" She cries but when the men come at us with their guns, I push her forward.

She stumbles backwards. "_Run_! Look after Jimmy! Don't let them get him!"

She's torn for a moment, her eyes wild with fear and anguish – then she looks down at the baby she cradles, gives me one more longing glance – and flees.

I turn to find a gun in my face. I slap it out of his hands and he's obviously not expecting a fight – his grip is slack and the gun drops.

As I bend down to grab it, my leg swings up and my foot connects with his face.

I pump the gun once, twice – shoot two men as they rush at me. The third gets a punch. There's so many of them – I take a glance around to find them flooding the village, killing and looting – taking everything.

I can't see mama anywhere – which is good, _right_?

One man off in the distance levels his gun with my head – I raise mine and shoot him square in the eye before he can even cock the trigger.

A hand's on my shoulder but I whip round and connect the butt of the gun with his face. All around me is blood and screaming, so much – too much. The loud zipping of bullets through the air makes me want to throw up.

One hits me in the shoulder and the pain almost makes me double over, but I whirl around, smacking several in the face. I don't know what's going on anymore – I can't focus properly, all I know is I have to keep fighting, keep going until I can't go no more.

Arms suddenly pin me from behind and the butt of a gun is slammed into my face.

"Leave her alive! I want her!" A voice growls and a face is thrust into my eyesight.

I blink rapidly, blood pouring from my forehead and into my eyes. A hand grips my jaw and gives my head a rough shake.

"You'll learn your place little _bitch_!" He snarls, white teeth flashing.

He smacks me across the face – hard. The world shakes and although two people hold me upright, I struggle to stay upright and conscious.

I'm shoved to the side suddenly and I find myself standing beside a girl I once knew. She helped me in the fields gathering crops. She was sweet and shy. Now she stands bent at the knee, trembling and coated in blood.

She reaches a hand out to me, touches my arm. One of the many German soldiers yells at her and that hand drops limply to her side.

I want to comfort her too – but I can't, my eyes are on the mess before me. Our village was never huge – not since I've been here that is. But it's always been... homely and cosy. Now all that's destroyed.

Bodies lay strewn all over the ground, soldiers – a whole ton of them, stand around us, killing any and almost all men. I find my eyes drawn to one body in particular.

Duane – four years we've been friends, ever since I first came here – and now he lies on the ground, his pale face smothered with blood.

I stare into those blank eyes for a moment, feeling my stomach and hest heave with the effort of continuing to breathe. I close my eyes momentarily, trying to control the searing heat within me.

But the anger refuses to simmer down, continues to boil and burn. Especially when I open my eyes to see them dragging mama towards us, kicking and screaming.

Little Jimmy and John are nowhere to be seen.

"_No_!" I scream and launch myself forward.

A hand grips my arm instantly and I whirl around, hitting him hard in the face. I get a few steps forward before something hits me in the back of the head – hard.

I see sparks and drop to my hands and knees... but I keep going, crawling now, desperate to reach her.

She sits at the feet of a soldier, a crumpled mess, sobbing her heart out. I'm so close – so damn close.

But then something hits me again, this time harder and with a loud grunt to accompany it. I fall forward, land on my face and the world dims.

"_Mama_..." I croak weakly, my fingers clawing at the damp earth in a desperate attempt to reach her.

A man swears in German, low and guttural – such a disgusting sound. Then another pain, this time sharp and prominent – and then the darkness comes and I curse it, curse it for keeping me from mama.

.


	2. Chapter 2

** O**

I open my eyes to find myself in a darkened room. I jerk upright, only to have a throbbing pain rack my skull. I look down at my hand when I realise it's tied to something with rope, wound tightly, painfully.

I yank on it, hoping for some leeway – but get none. I lean my head down and gnaw on it with my teeth. This continues for several minutes before the ache in my teeth becomes too much.

I throw myself back in frustration. I'm on something hard – most likely just the ground. I kick my legs out and they connect with something solid, a wall – wood maybe.

I kick out in all directions – I'm in a box-like room, tall enough to sit upright and stretched out my limbs but no bigger.

I let out a small sigh and close my eyes, trying not to allow the panic to sink in. It doesn't matter, it hits me anyway. Wave after wave of it hits me, makes it hard to breathe. I turn from left to right.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I kick out all around me, swing my fists – and when they connect it hurts like a bitch but I keep on going.

I let out a gut wrenching screams and it leaves me breathless, panting and gasping for oxygen that continues to elude me.

"Let me out!" I scream. "Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!"

It soon turns to one long scream – Lemmeoutlemmeoutlemmeout!

A sudden thump to the side has me swallowing my words and almost choking on them.

"Let me out!" I scream once I catch my breath.

"Shut up or we'll feed you to the dogs!" A voice snarls viciously.

"Just try it! I'll snap their fucking necks!" I shout back, my voice gasping.

Laughter echoes from outside and slowly fades away to nothing. I struggle to calm my panic. The darkness gets to me sometimes, makes it so I can barely breathe. The tight constricting space doesn't help.

"Okay, okay, gotta breathe." I whisper to myself and not only do I feel more soothed by talking out loud – but also because I'm talking in my tongue. "Think, think, think!"

But thinking doesn't work. It just doesn't – neither does breathing calmly. That panic begins escalate once more and I find myself gasping.

"Calm, calm, calm!" I repeat but my head feels light and full at the same time – like a balloon I can fly to the sky but pop and fall at any second.

I can't stop myself from letting out another scream – of anger and fear, pure boiling rage. I kick out and swing with my fists – and then a sound of some kind of door opening and cool air hits my face.

"Shut up or I'll knock you out." The man snarls in perfect English.

"What? Have to tie a girl up to beat her? 'Fraid I'll beat you?" I snarl down at him fiercely, taking in sweet gulps of air.

I realise then that it's almost like I'm in some kind of coffin – but a little larger, taller. I kick out and he mutters something to someone else.

"Sort her out!" Another man barks, in German this time.

He hesitates at the opening and then steps forward. I kick out again, connecting with his knee. He lets out a snarl of anger and leaps at me, landing on top of me.

I can't keep up with all of it, all I know is that I'm fighting viciously, the best I can in such a small space with one of my hands tied. I give him a good few knocks – a good few painful knocks – but he somehow manages to cut the rope loose.

He drags me out and I twist and turn painfully, clawing at the ground. He jerks me out into the dim light anyway.

We're at a camp of sort. I look around instantly, trying to take in our surroundings for future reference.

It's a woodland area, nice and tucked away from the rest of the world. They have a fire burning but its low to keep their position hidden. There are several crate-like boxes... probably filled with people like myself.

"This one's a little bitch. I say we feed her to the dog." The man barks out whilst pointing in the direction of a small pen.

"Didn't Barkley want her?" Another officer mutters, eyeing me up.

I count them, surprised when there's only six. I expected more, but then... they're just baby-sitting, right?

He drags me forward another step and I leap forward. I attack him, forcing him to the ground. He fights back – and reaches for his gun but I grab it first. I jump to my feet, relieved when I realise he no longer holds the rope connected to my wrist.

I find myself facing several guns pointed in my direction whilst the man in front of me climbs to his feet. My breathing ragged, I point the gun at each of them in turn.

"Put the gun down!" They scream at me, waving their guns in my face.

"No! Put yours down! Now!" I yell back.

This lasts for a few seconds and I can feel myself growing desperate. Then something hits me in the back, hard. I fall forward, the gun dropping uselessly to the ground. A boot is pressed into my back as I struggle beneath it.

"You men are useless." A gruff voice mutters.

"Thank God you came back; I thought you were Barkley for a moment. I was worried." The man who'd dragged me out of my box says, blood dripping from a wound across his cheek.

I try to turn and let out a scream when he grinds his boot into my back.

"You're lucky I wasn't Blakely." The man mutters. "So what, you're going to feed her to Boulder?"

"I say yeah, she's too much bother."

"Alright." He reaches down and wraps a hand around my upper arm, jerking me up.

Despite the pain shooting through my body, I jerk around and slam my fist repeatedly against his padded armour. He just laughs at me, clearly amused at my attempts to be free.

He drags me in the direction of the pen and although I put up one hell of a fight, he still manages to lift me up and throw me in.

I hit the floor and roll a few times, the taste of dirt filling my mouth. I spit out mouthfuls as I climb to my knees and hands – and as a loud, threatening growl echoes around me.

My head shoots up and I'm faced with a snarling dog. I don't have enough time to see what breed it is, all I know is that it's huge and terrifying and leaping right at me.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter three_**

I react instantly, rushing forward and tackling it. The dog snarls and snaps, reacting instantly. My mind darts back to when I was a child and John and I would play-wrestle with our dogs when we lived in France.

It was nothing like this. This animal is rabid, all sharp teeth and claws. Al I can do is show it no fear, to fight with the hope that mama might still be out there, somewhere – needing my help.

Its teeth snap at my face and for the first time I become aware of cheering from the men. I push my hands into its throat – hard, digging my fingers into its jugular. It lets out a snarl, its hot rancid breath in my face.

I manage to somehow get my leg up – the heavy weight of the rabid dog bears down on me and it's almost too much of an effort to kick it.

It must have been a powerful kick because it flies back a few feet – but it gets up almost instantly.

I climb to my feet hastily, my breathing harsh and watch the dog as it warily circles me – trying to back me up into a corner of the pen.

"Come on then mutt!" I growl, crouching slightly as I circle with it – moving around but refusing to back down.

At this short distance, I can tell exactly what kind of dog it is. Rottweiler mix – maybe with husky or something as equally big. It's almost foaming at the mouth as its wild eyes remain pinned on mine. Boulder...that was the name, right?

This time when he leaps, I'm prepared, dodging to the side and then rolling when he attacks again. He growls, clearly pissed off, on his feet as agile as anything.

"Come on Boulder!"

"Chew her to pieces!"

"Rip her to shreds!"

"Get her boy!"

I focus on the words for a moment but then a second passes and they fade away once more, leaving me with nothing but the animal before me.

Everything slows down and I pick up on the way the dog crouches, backside sticking up slightly, body terse and ready. I feel my own body prepare, get ready for the weight of the dog.

I know what I have to do, my mind returning momentarily to when my papa taught me how to kill an attacking dog. How to end its life in one brutal movement.

The dog lets out a series of barks and then leaps at me. This time I don't move, instead, I let its weight hit me – and I grab its front legs.

It snaps into my face and it's harder then I would have thought to avoid those nasty teeth in order to end its life.

With a roar that sounds more like the dog than myself, I rip the legs apart, efficiently splitting it open.

I pant heavily, the weight now dead upon me. I can't even push it off me, I'm just so exhausted. Angry voices, raised and shouting – at me, at the dog, at themselves and each other.

A moment later and the dog is removed from me and I'm jerked to my feet. I can't focus, everything seems blurry and distorted. I fight but I don't do any harm. My limbs feel heavy and my movements sluggish. It's like I've turned into jelly.

One of the men drags me back to the box and throws me in, not bothering to tie me – thankfully. I kik out weakly with my leg but the door refuses to budge.

"Fucking bitch killed the dog. Useless mutt."

"What now?"

"We should have put a bullet in her head."

"No, Blakely obviously wants her for some reason – perhaps this is it. She's a good fighter, good with a gun. Maybe he wants to convince her to be on our side."

"A woman?" One scoffs.

"Yes, a woman. You saw her yourself, how she fought. She could be valuable."

"But..."

"No buts, we wait for Blakely."

The voices trail off into an uncomfortable silence as I heave for breath, vomit threatening to spill out of my mouth like acid.

I tell myself I can't sleep, I shouldn't sleep – that if I do it could all end for me. I have to be on my guard.

But none of this matter because the next second, I allow the sweet embrace of darkness to take me under.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter four_**

I wake to the sound of gunshots. I blink and remember where I am. Although what's going on, I have no idea. A gun shoots directly beside me and a loud pitched keening rockets through my ears.

I kick out like wild and start screaming. This is not how I'm going to go out, not after all this. Shot whilst tied down in a damn box.

The door opens and it's still dim outside, I couldn't have slept for very long. A man stands before me, but I have no idea who he is – he could be one of the men from before or someone else.

He shouts something but it's muffled, I can barely hear it amongst the gunshots – let alone understand it.

He goes to grab my leg but I kick out – there's no way in hell I trust him. He continues to shout but I continue to kick. He drags me out anyway and as soon as he legs go, I launch myself at him.

He catches me at the wrists, stopping me as I continue to fight to get away. I realise dimly that the gunshots have stopped, just one every few seconds. And then the words become clear.

"I'm tryin' to help you! Stop it!"

I stop instantly, my heart hammering. I want nothing more than to fall over and throw up. I feel sick to my core. I notice a nasty scratch across his cheek. I feel silly and girly for it, I should have hit him with my fist – but papa always taught me that when it comes to life or death, it doesn't matter how you fight as long as you live.

I stand there wheezing weakly and he doesn't let go. "Are you alright now? Not gonna to attack me?"

I nod tiredly and he lets go of my wrists. I look around quickly to see several men walking around and checking that the German soldiers are dead.

"Who are you?" I ask him, my eyes meeting his.

He, like me, holds the eye contact. "We're a special elite team sent to scout out nearby hostile camps."

"Oh." I run a hand through my hair.

"And you are?"

"No one important." I shrug. "Are the others alive?"

I point in the direction of the boxes, confused and worried when I notice the other members of his team opening them up and shaking their heads.

"One of the soldiers here... when he realised that there was no way any of them would be gettin' out – he started to shoot at the crates."

I run a hand over my face and then I think about it. What if mama was in one of those?

I turn; my head full and heavy. He shouts at me but I bolt in the direction of the first box. They are four in total. I open it up to find the face of a young girl. Not someone from my village.

I let out a noise of disgust and back away.

"Who're you looking for?" The man asks following behind.

I don't respond, just move onto the next box. I realise that the others have stopped looking in the remaining two boxes.

He follows me as I move to the next three boxes – all with deceased people within. I open the fifth box and a low moaning makes me hesitate.

"What?" He asks.

I crawl into the small crate. "Are you okay?"

A low whimpering. I move closer until I'm above the girl. She can't be any older than fourteen. Her face in the dim light is shaded but terrified.

"Where are you hurt?" I ask quietly, raising a hand to stroke her hair. "I'm going to help you – but you have to tell me where it hurts."

She takes my hand in one of hers and places it on her hip. I can feel that a bullet has hit her there – and buried deep. She lets out a small noise of pain and her trembling increases.

"It's okay, it's okay." I whisper. "We're gonna sort this out nice and quick, okay?"

"What's going on in there?" A different man barks.

"She's injured." I call back. "I'm going to –"

"You don't have to do anything. We can move her without injuring her but we need you to come out."

I hesitate and the girl blinks. "Don't leave me." She breathes.

"They're going to help you out. I'll just be outside."

Her hand remains on mine until the moment I'm out, her breath a tiny whisper. Once I'm out I'm faced with another man, like the other – and all the rest – he's dressed in dark green with a thick helmet on his head.

"Thank you." He nods gruffly.

Two men move into the box and a second later, with minimal effort, they come out holding the frail girl in their arms. They put her down near the remaining ashes of the fire.

I take a seat beside her as one of the men rushes forward, a medic sign on his helmet. He drops to his knees besides her. He spots the blood instantly and rolls the end of her vest up.

She looks towards him, her eyes wide and fearful. Again it's no-one from my village – but that doesn't make me feel any better.

"It's okay – I'm gonna make you better, I promise." The man whispers.

He pulls out his medical kit and sets about getting the bullet out almost instantly. I take her hand in my mine and he eyes meet mine. Her skin is chalk white – and there are several distinctive bruises covering her arms.

"What's your name?" One of the men asks, the one who'd told me to get out of the box.

"Ash." I reply automatically. Only mama ever called me Ashleigh.

"I'm Captain Miller and these are my men." He points out each of them. "Private Jackson was the one that got you out of the box, Wade is our medic and then there's Private Horvath, Reiben, Mellish, Caparzo and Corporal Upham."

They each give me a firm nod and one – Reiben gives me a smile that spells out exactly what type of guy he is.

"Thank you all." I say instantly – and I mean it. Without them, I could have put up a fight but it would have been short.

"So where you from?" Jackson asks.

"A small secluded village – it's destroyed now." I say; my voice blank and devoid of emotion.

"Who was it you were looking for in the boxes?"

"My mother. They took her." The girl lets out a hiss of pain and I give her fingers a squeeze. "Will one of you check the final box?"

Mellish is the one that nods; a look of understanding in his eyes. He turns and walks across to the box and opens it without pause – obviously not wanting to waste time and build up unwanted tension.

"How olds your mother?" He asks quietly.

"Nearly forty two – but she looks a lot younger." I reply, feeling my pulse begin to pick up pace.

"Not her, this one's definitely over forty and doesn't look a day younger." He replies and my sigh of relief echoes round the small camp.

"We... we should bury them." The girl whispers faintly.

"Huh?" Wade says, momentarily distracted from the delicate work of taking the bullet out.

"We need to bury them – they're from my village." Tears stream her face.

I reach a hand across and stroke the tears away, feeling a burning compassion for this poor girl. She's far too young to have this burdened upon her.

"We can't do that. We have to keep moving before others show up." Miller barks out.

"Have some respect for the dead." I growl out, annoyed with his insensitivity.

I notice the members of his team sharing a look. I notice him giving me a look of mild annoyance.

"I'm just doing what's best for my team."

"Well do what's best for your team then. I'm doing what's best for her." I nod my head in her direction, my eyes meeting his and holding them.

"If it weren't for us, you'd still be in the box."

"I would have gotten out."

"No, you wouldn't have." He growls.

"She... would have. If any... of us... were going to – she would have."

"Shush, save your strength." Wade says in a soothing voice.

"There... was a crack. In my box. You didn't... you didn't see her."

"What was she doing?" Miller asks, eyes still on mine but narrowed slightly.

"They took her out... she wouldn't shut up. She nearly took... them out. But... one snuck up... on her. They put her in with... the dog and..." She comes to a painful end, hissing and arching.

"And then what?" He asks me.

"I killed it." I bark out. "Check the pen yourself if you don't believe me."

He nods to one of his men and I watch as Upham pauses for a moment before turning and walking across to the pen. There's something awkward and clumsy about the way he moves, the way he carries his gun.

He comes back, his already pale face slightly chalkier. He nods. I smirk on the inside – how could this child have been allowed in the army? I'm surprised he doesn't just faint clean away now.

"So, do you know how to handle a gun?"

I can't help but pull an amused face at his words. I look at each of them in turn until my eyes rest on Private Jackson – who has a nice little Magnum tucked away at his waist. I gesture for him to come forward.

He looks to him Captain and when he nods, he steps forward. I go to stand but the girl tightens her grip.

"Just for one second." I whisper and her grip slackens slightly.

I stand and when I take a step towards Jackson, possibly closer then I need to be – but I like that instant light in his eyes, that curiosity.

I almost smile when I notice the tiny movement of him tightening his grip on his AK-47.

"Easy. I'm not gonna pull out a gun and shoot you in the head."

"I wasn't worried."

"Sure." I reach forward but before I can reach the gun, his hand is wrapped around my wrist. I look up.

"What are you doing?"

"Just, give me your gun." He raises an eyebrow. "_Please_."

His hand drops but his eyes narrow. I take the gun, feeling the burn of the eyes surrounding me. Having a crowd watching me has never put me off before – and it won't now.

I feel the weight of the gun in my hands. It's heavy – but a good heavy, a heavy I can work with.

I remember when I was eight years old. John had been six. He'd been standing outside the barn by our house, a trembling mess. An apple sat perched on his head. I'd raised the gun, ignoring his obvious fear – and shot.

I got in a lot of trouble that day. I got my favourite Beretta taking off me and I wasn't even allowed desert. The next day papa caved and took me out hunting. Then that night he gave me an extra helping of desert.

I check the clip to find it almost full. I bite my lip, lift it and level it with the captain's head.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter five_**

Suddenly several guns are pointed at my own. I laugh and twist it away, shooting a bottle resting several meters away. The recoil isn't as heavy as I thought it would be.

"Impressive." The Captain sighs, gesturing at the others to relax. "But not as impressive as I thought it would be."

"Would it be more so if I'd shot you in the head?" I roll my eyes. "There's not a whole load of targets moving around."

"You're lucky _you_ didn't get a shot to the head." He shakes his head. "What else can you do?"

"I never miss for one." I take a step towards Jackson and return his gun. I notice an odd sort of light in his eyes. "I can hit a man square in the eye with a throwing knife from a hundred yards away and I can handle just about any gun you've got."

"And how do you know all of this?" He asks.

"Does it matter?" I raise my eyebrows.

"I guess not. How is she?" He turns toward the girl and I do the same, kneeling beside her.

Wade is just finishing put the bandage over the wound. "She's fine. She needs to rest though – we can't move her."

"But we have to move – the base is only nine miles north."

"I can carry her." Caparzo steps forward. I take in the height and width of him and my mind has no doubt that he wouldn't struggle to carry the girl there.

"Would she be able to be carried Wade?" Miller asks.

He stands hunched for a moment as if torn. "If that wound gets rubbed the wrong way, it'll hurt like a bitch. If you're careful she can be moved."

"What about... the dead?" She asks quietly, her eyes fluttering in my direction.

I hesitate. I know they're right – we have to keep moving. "We can't bury them; we don't have the time or shovels."

"But –"

"But, why don't we say a prayer for them?"

She pauses but nods weakly. "Help me stand."

I begin to lift her as gently as I can. Wade steps forward to help but I raise a hand to stop him. I wrap my arm around her and hold her up – which is surprisingly easy. She weighs less than a feather.

"So you know these people?" I ask quietly. "Intimately?

"Yes. The older woman... she was my neighbour. She brought cookies around every Sunday before she went to church."

I pause. "You're from America, aren't you?"

"Yes. I learned German a few years ago when me and my mom moved here. I loved it here before the war started."

I nod my head. "And your mother?"

"She died when the war first broke out. The village we lived in – it was ripped to shreds within a year of us being there."

"I first moved here eight years ago, long before the war started and long after the other ended. My papa was in the first war – he knew that it wasn't the end and he wanted me to be prepared He taught me everything I know today."

She looks at me with sadness in her eyes, a sadness that shouldn't be there.

"He died in a raid. He protected me, mama and my two brothers." A sharp pain rips through my chest. "Who I think may all be dead."

She tries to give me a hug, but she must be more than exhausted because she almost makes us fall over. I put a leg behind us to hold her more upright. She gives me a small smile.

"Thank you for doing this, talking to me. I'm so scared."

"Don't be. I'll look after you, okay?" My heart wrenches at the thought of this girl being out there, on her own.

She nods weakly and turns her head to look at the boxes. "God bless you all. Rest well in heaven. Your time here may have ended, but your life up there has only just begun."

"God bless." I whisper.

I glance across at the men from beneath my lashes to notice several of them repeating the words, mouthing them silently.

"Now we have to go." I gently urge.

She raises her hand and wipes away some tears. I turn, my arm still supporting her. Caparzo is directly behind me, towering above. I pass her along to him and he's surprisingly gentle with her.

"Where to now?" I ask Miller.

He points in the direction I can only assume to be north. "We head back to camp."

"And then?"

"Then we send someone with you and her to somewhere safe."

"Which would be where?" I press. "Come to think of it, where are we now?"

He sighs. "The middle of no-where, okay?"

"So where's somewhere safe?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now we need to move out."

I hold my hand out expectantly. He looks at it for a moment and then sighs.

"She can have my Magnum." Jackson steps forward. "She seems to know her way around it already."

Millers nods. Jackson steps towards me and hands me the gun. The heavy weight is more than a reassurance. I look up at him and his eyes pinpoint mine for a moment. They're grey – silver almost.

"Look after it, okay? It's important to me." He murmurs.

"I'll guard it with my life." I whisper.

"And she can use my throwing knife." Mellish steps forward.

I take it from him, the cold handle bringing an odd sense of relief. "Thank you."

"Then let's head out!" Miller barks and we start the long walk to their camp.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter six_**

"Are you sure we should be out here like this Captain?" Reiben asks. "Isn't it a little dangerous?"

Miller shrugs. "Possibly. But we need to rest – and she needs to have her bandages changed."

"She has a name you know." I state with mild annoyance.

He gives me a look which clearly says I'm too much trouble but I choose to ignore it. "_Fine_. We have to change Poppy's bandages and she needs to rest."

"Damn, we need to keep going Captain." Mellish retorts.

"No, we need to rest." Caparzo mutters.

"I agree." Upham sighs, running a hand across his face. "It's taking us a long time to get here but we need to rest."

The Captain nods his head. "You're all right, we need to set up camp – we can take shifts."

"I'll take first." My words are a knee-jerk reaction.

"I'll stay with up with her, make sure she doesn't fall asleep n'all." Jackson offers.

"I won't but thanks, I appreciate it." I reply honestly and he nods before turning to talk to Reiben.

Within a matter of minutes, the camp is set up, shabby but secure. We have a small fire, sitting low and quiet and several blankets are spread out. Caparzo cooks something on the fire, I'm not sure what – not even sure I want some, with Poppy propped up beside him.

I walk around our camp; planting Claymore's roughly a metre apart. Wade is helping me.

"So Poppy will be alright?" I ask quietly when we meet.

He nods his head. "She's going to be fine. By tomorrow she should be up and moving."

"Good. Thank you for helping her."

He runs a hand through his short blonde hair and sighs heavily. Despite how young he looks, there's something hardened about his face and eyes, something sad – an age old sadness.

"It's all I'm good for out here. I mean, I know how to handle the guns, I know how to kill... but what I do is help the injured the best I can."

I place a hand on his arm, realising that he needs some form of comfort. "You're doing a good – no, great job, okay? Without you, Poppy surely would have bled to death. And although I have no idea how many others you've saved – I can guess that the numbers began to blur a long time ago."

He nods weakly and sighs. I notice that his eyes are sticking together through tiredness.

"Go get something to eat and then sleep." I urge quietly. "You look like you're about to fall off your feet."

"But –"

"No buts, rest." I urge.

He nods his head tiredly and turns to walk back to the centre of the camp. I turn back and my eyes automatically search beyond the Claymores.

We're in a secluded area, but the trees surrounding us look threatening. Although the Claymores are far and wide from the camp – we'd have plenty of warning – it's still risky. I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway.

The night air is cool and it brushes along my skin. I still wear the same clothes I'd had on first thing this morning – if no more than a day has passed. A black vest and baggy bottoms. My feet remain bare.

A shiver runs down my spine and goosebumps rise up and down my arms. I rub my fingers over my skin in an attempt to warm it.

"Cold?"

I turn to the voice to find Jackson holding out a blanket, the material rough looking. I hesitate as he steps towards me, think about declining and then nod. He drapes the blanket over my shoulder and I was right – the material scratches against my skin every time I move, but it brings the warmth I crave.

I glance around at the others to find them settled in, each watching the dying embers of the flames, talking in quiet tones.

"Are you tired?" He asks.

I turn back to him and shake my head. "I don't like to sleep. I prefer to be doing something."

He nods his head. "Sometimes you just need to sleep though."

"What about you, you tired?" I ask quietly.

He pauses and shrugs. "A little, not much though. I had plenty of sleep last night."

I gesture for him to walk with me and he does.

I glance at him and from this angle I can see the nasty scratch I gave him. It looks deep. "Does it hurt?" I gesture to his face.

He raises a hand and touches it, but doesn't flinch. "Naw, probably should but it don't."

"Sorry." I reply sheepishly.

"It's fine, you were just trying to protect yourself."

"Did you get Wade to look at it? In case it get infected?"

He shakes his head. "It'll be fine, you shouldn't worry about it."

I nod silently, feeling guilt bubble and simmer – before finally sinking deep within my bones, resting where all of my guilt lies unattended to.

"So what's it like, doing all this? Being in the army?"

"You sound wistful – surely you don't want to actually be in the army?" He sounds a little surprised.

I hesitate. "It's more than that. My pap – father was in the first war. He survived and growing up, he taught _me_ how to survive. I always wanted to join the army, to help my country."

"So you were born in England?" He asks.

I nod. "But my father taught me German, French and Russian as a child. He wanted me to be prepared."

"So not only did your pops teach you how to speak different languages but he taught you how to handle a gun?"

I smile as memories from my past resurface. "Not just now to handle a gun. He taught me how to fight, how to throw a knife and have it hit target every time. He taught me how to be brave."

"I didn't know bravery could be taught." He pauses and inhales the crisp air. "I thought you had to be born with it n'all."

I shake my head. "My pap – father taught me how to be brave. Without him I might have taken after my mother who... I love dearly but would never stand a chance in a fight and wouldn't ever pick up a weapon."

He chuckles and pauses. "You can call him papa you know, I don't know why you insist on callin' him father."

I shrug. "Papa and mama seem so... intimate."

"Well feel free to call them that. I never had a problem with callin' my parents ma and pa."

I smile. "So you have lots of fond memories?"

Now it's his turn to smile. "You could say that. My pa and I – we disagreed a lot. We argued constantly. My ma... I loved my ma; she took care of me and loved me. I remember this one time; this kid from school was tryin' to start a fight. I punched him in the face. Couldn't have been more than eight. The school went nuts at my ma – but she just shrugged and made me cookies that night. She was proud of me for lookin' out for number one."

We pause to glance back at the camp. The fire's entirely gone out now and everyone seems to be sleeping – but you can guarantee there are a few that are wide awake.

"I once shot a kid in the knee." I say nonchalantly.

"Oh yeah? How come?" He asks curiously.

"My little brother John was uh, being bullied by some kids. Although he has the same knowledge as me – he could have kicked their arses if he wanted to – he was more of a pacifist."

He nods, taking a moment to glance around.

"But I wasn't having it. I had my beautiful Beretta that I got for my seventh birthday and I was hiding in a tree. I'd been playing with my imaginary friend – as you do – and I just took the shot and fired."

He chuckles. "What happened then?"

"Well, this boy drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes. His two 'friends' bolt almost instantly, leaving him behind. I climbed down and raced over. My brother was angry at me – but I ignored him completely.

Anyway... this boy – Jay I think his name was, just sat there, crying. And I didn't even feel bad. I threatened him, told him to leave my brother alone – and said that if he told anyone the truth about what happened to him, I'd hunt him down and kill him."

He whistles through his teeth. "I wouldn't wanna get on the wrong side of you!"

"No, you wouldn't." I laugh. "John told papa anyway. But papa was proud. Mama wasn't. She was pissed. But she got over it soon enough."

"Do you miss them?" He asks quietly.

I hesitate, not wanting to bear my soul to this man I've barely known a day. "Yes. Papa died two years ago in a raid. I think Jimmy – my baby brother – and John are dead. Mama... I don't know where she is."

We stop walking for a moment and he looks down momentarily. I take this opportunity to look at him properly. His face is one of hardness, clearly defined with a nose that's been broken more than once. His dark eyebrows are drawn together and his surprisingly full lips are pursed.

"My ma died when I was eighteen. A sickness – one that couldn't be cured. Pa's still out there, waiting for me to come home." He sighs.

"You will." I say earnestly. "I can tell."

He smiles at that, those full lips tilting upwards. "I have no doubt."

There's silence for a moment and we continue to circle the camp without a mention, walking in syn. I look back at the camp. I don't know how long it's been since everyone was up and about – it feels like hours ago. All I can hope is that everyone's asleep and resting.

"So – you said you never miss." He says casually.

"Which is true." I smile.

"You know, that's my speciality."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. I'm the best shooter here."

"Well, I guess it's time to relieve you of that title." I smirk.

He rolls his eyes. "Don't be so sure."

"Bet I'm better." I challenge.

"Not like there's any way to prove it." He laughs.

"Not tonight. But tomorrow perhaps. If we encounter hostiles."

He tilts his head in my direction. "It excites you."

"Huh?"

"You like the thought of fighting, right?"

I hesitate before nodding. "I like the adrenaline rush, that... burst of power. It's additive."

"The others always have difficulties with killing. They struggle to sleep at night because of it."

"And you?" I ask curiously.

"God helps me with that. I'm here doing this, protecting my country and people under his will, he guides me."

"You really believe that?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You don't?" Both his raise upwards.

I don't respond for several long, drawn-out minutes. "I don't know. Sometimes I think I'm doing it for Him. But in the end, isn't that what they believe too? That they're doing it for the right reasons? What makes us different?"

"What makes us different is that we don't butcher people for being different." He replies.

"Don't we? We kill people all the time in England, America too – it's not just the German's who can be sadistic."

"It's not the same, okay? And don't be thinking' like that. It'll drive you crazy."

I nod my head. "You're right, you're right. We just need to keep patrolling the camp, keep it safe until it's our turn to rest."

"You think you'll be able to sleep?"

"Probably not, but I have to try. I need my strength up."

"Yeah, same." He mutters and we fall into silence.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter seven_**

Something prods my cheek and I slap my hand out. I was dreaming, dreaming of something familiar, something warm. Now it's gone.

That thing prods my cheek again and I open my eyes to find Poppy's head tilted to the side, watching me

I pull back a little, blinking rapidly. "Wakey-wakey." She smiles.

I sit upright, the blanket falling into my lap as I stretch, yawning. All around me, everyone's up. "How long was I out?"

"Well, I don't know when you went to sleep but you've been out for as long as I've been awake – which is something like three hours." She shrugs, sitting down, wincing when she moves the wrong way.

"Why'd you let me sleep so long?" I mutter, kicking the blankets back.

"Well... uh..." She pauses and looks around at the men tidying up the camp.

"Come on, spit it out." I urge.

"Jackson tried to wake you up first."

"And?"

"It was weird. You woke up – kinda – and just attacked him! You went back to sleep almost as soon as he stepped away from you."

I wince. "Damn."

I look around for him to find him deactivating the Claymores. I rub a hand over my chin.

"Why'd you do it though?"

"Call it a defence mechanism." I shrug. "I do it all the time. Did it to my papa when I was younger, freaked him out something bad."

She shakes her head. "That's crazy."

"Don't I know it." I sigh before clambering to my feet.

"I decided to leave you a little longer but Captain Millers said we had to go now so..."

"Next time, grab a stick and just poke at me until I wake." I grumble, bending down to retrieve the blanket and fold it neatly as possible.

She watches me curiously and I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"I just wanted to thank you. For yesterday."

"I didn't exactly do a lot. Wade was the one who saved you." I shrug.

"But still, you comforted me when I was scared, when I needed someone so thank you." She smiles this little smile that I have no choice other than to return.

"I'll, uh; I'll be back in a second. I'm just going to apologize to Jackson."

She gestures with her hand to go ahead and I turn from her to walk towards Jackson. As I do, I pass the men and each of them gives me this look I can't decipher. I can't tell whether it's bad or good.

"Hey." I call once I reach him.

He turns and raises an eyebrow. "Hey."

"Poppy told me about what happened." I run a hand through my hair and realise that I've lost my hair band along the way, my thick hair loose and curling.

He smiles slightly, his eyes filled with amusement. "Yeah, luckily you didn't get me like you did yesterday."

I smile sheepishly. "I'm sorry. It's just what I do. If it makes you feel better I did it with my papa too."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Freaked him out a lot."

"I see. Well, uh, you're forgiven." He nods his head firmly.

I pause to turn my head. The others have gathered. "So we'll reach your base today?"

He nods. "It's only a few miles away. Literally around the corner. We can make it in an hour – and your friend's looking better."

"Yeah, she does seem it, doesn't she?" I smile faintly when I notice her standing beside Wade, talking in rapid tones – probably thanking him too.

"Well, let's head over there." He indicates with his head and I nod, walking across with him following suit.

"Now, our base is set roughly three miles north." Miller point's out the direction. "It shouldn't take us any more than an hour or so to walk. You're feeling better today, right?"

Poppy nods in response, her eyes darting from right to left before resting on Miller. "I could probably walk it."

"I can still carry you until we reach base. We need to hurry." Caparzo states, arms crossed over his chest.

Before Poppy can open her mouth, Miller's nodding. "I think you should, we really do need to get back to base."

"Why are you in such a rush?" I ask curiously.

"We had a deadline to meet." Horvath sighs. "We're late."

I narrow my eyes slightly. I can't help but feel as if he's trying to imply something.

"He doesn't mean it's your fault." Upham butts in, quick to reassure and keep the peace.

"Of course not." Horvath says, eyes pinned on mine momentarily before returning to his captain.

"We want to keep to the trees, stay out of the sun." He squints up at the sun for a moment. I can feel it burning into my back.

"Yeah, I don't feel much like treating sunstroke." Wade pipes up, putting his point across loud and clear.

"Right and if we encounter any hostile Germans – keep her away." Miller points directly at Poppy who frowns. I can tell just by looking at her that she feels useless.

"Alright, head out." Horvath barks out.

We start to move forward, all trailing behind one another. As soon as we hit the shade, the bliss is beautiful and I let out a small sigh.

"So tell me this, how'd a little thing like you learn how to handle such a big gun?"

I turn my head to find myself facing Reiben. He smiles this cocky smile and I find myself returning it with a strained one.

"My father taught me, it's a pretty simple story, nothing interesting."

He raises an eyebrow. "I bet you could make it interesting if you wanted to."

I shrug. "I'm sure of that too, but as it is, I don't want to."

"How come?"

I sigh. "I don't like talking about my life, okay?"

"Why?"

"Sheesh, what's with the hundred questions? Leave me alone."

"Why, don't you want to talk to me?" He smirks obnoxiously.

"Something about that mug of yours." I mutter, finding myself growing irritated.

He barks out a laugh. "I'm sorry, what?"

I sigh, my bitchy side riding up. "I know your type okay? I could tell the first moment I laid eyes on you."

"And what type am I exactly?" He smiles, clearly amused.

I notice that although Millers and Horvath are talking quietly up ahead, the others are subtly listening.

"You're Mr. Aren't I wonderful? Mr. Look how sexy I am and how many hot chick I can bang." I shrug, throwing my arms out for emphasis.

I notice Jackson smirking slightly and shaking his head. Upham looks worried and so does Poppy. Wade, Mellish and Caparzo just share a look.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, it's in the way you walk, the way you talk, everything about you screams man-whore." I laugh.

"Well how do you know you're not just assuming?" He questions.

"Come on Reiben, we all know she's got you down to a notch." Mellish laughs.

Reiben turns to shoot him an annoyed look. "Shut it Mellish."

"You shut it." He bites back, rolling his eyes.

With a noise of annoyance he turns back to me. "Ignore him; I'm totally different from what you described me as."

"You can stop acting - you won't be getting any." I smile sweetly.

"I'd just like to know... where do you get off on acting like you're better than me?" He says, still calm but with more than a little hint of annoyance.

"I don't think I'm better then you." I roll my eyes. Men – so dramatic. "I'm merely stating that I don't want to get it on with you."

Someone sniggers, Caparzo maybe. I'm not entirely sure. I raise an eyebrow at Reiben, a challenge.

"Yeah, well what's wrong with me?"

"I just don't go for piggish, big-headed brutes who think they're all that – when they're not." I reply.

His hand shoots out and grabs my arm, halting me. The group is silent. Horvath and Millers keep walking, un-noticing.

"What gives you the right to talk to me like that?" He snaps.

"Get off my arm." I say politely. "I'm not asking."

He doesn't. I notice the tension within the group and I refuse to remove my eyes from his.

"You heard her man." Jackson prompts.

"Yeah man." Mellish mutters.

His hand drops but his eyes remained narrowed on mine.

"Good boy." I whisper, my fingers itching to smack him across his stupid face.

He turns and walks ahead, catching up with Millers and Horvath straight away. Probably gone to whine like a little bitch.

Jackson steps forward and gives me a look. "You 'kay?"

I scoff and carry on walking. "Am I okay? _Seriously_? My grandma had a tougher grip then him."

"But grandmas are normally freakishly strong." Wade adds. "Mine always was."

"Mine too." Poppy squeaks, clearly trying to act normal.

"So most grandmas are tough old chicks." I smile. "Sounds about right."

"That's the base there!" Millers points upwards slightly and we all look up to find a thin, light wisp of smoke rising from the ground. Probably someone cooking food.

"My grandma was never strong. She was always puny." Jackson adds suddenly, a smile playing across his face.

"So in a fight, my grandma would have totally kicked your grandma's arse, right?" I wink.

He rolls his eyes. "Obviously, I doubt she would have stood a chance... unless I -"

His voice is cut off when the world begins to shake and tremble. I crouch so that I don't fall over and everyone else tries to remain upright. Poppy falls over and then Upham. Wade almost does too but Caparzo catches him and keeps him upright.

Finally it stops. "What was that?" Poppy squeaks.

"An Earthquake?" Caparzo offers.

"Or something else." Wade whispers.

"What's wrong?" Miller barks.

Wade points silently towards where we'd looked a moment ago. Smoke, heavy and thick billows out.

We all share a look. Poppy's mouth twists. "Bomb."


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter eight_**

"Careful, there could be enemy hostiles." Miller says firmly, indicating to us to take it one step at a time.

"People are injured! We need to hurry the hell up – not take our sweet time!" Wade growls out in frustration.

"You stay right there, okay? Don't move unless I tell you to." He barks back.

Caparzo reaches a hand out and grabs Wade, giving him a look that tells him not to budge.

Poppy looks desperate. "Maybe... maybe I should stay here?"

"Good idea." I reply.

"Upham, stay with her." Miller adds.

I don't exactly trust Upham to look after her – he can barely hold the AK-47, balanced awkwardly in his hands, can he even shoot with it?

I don't argue though; just give her my best reassuring nod. I don't think it was very convincing.

I hold the Magnum in my hands but... somehow I don't feel entirely all that safe. The guns good don't get me wrong, but I'd much rather have a MK46 or maybe MP5. Yeah, I'd be able to do some real damage then.

We stalk forward, keeping to the shade of the trees. Before us is a horrible sight, what might have once been a large camp filled with people, is just a mangled state.

There's smoke everywhere and fire. Cries of pain fill the air. We hesitate on the edge but there doesn't seem to be anything or anyone.

"Caparazo, Jackson – circle around, keep to the shadows and be quick about it. Wade, I want you ready to tend to the injured, you got that?" Miller demands.

"Yes sir." His men echo. Jackson and Caparzo move out, swift on their feet.

He pauses to look at Mellish, Horvath and me. "You three get ready, be prepared for anything."

I simply nod my head in response, trying to resist the urge to show my annoyance. He's not my captain – I don't follow his orders. But at this moment, I will.

Jackson and Caparzo come back a few moments later, shaking their heads. Miller shoots forward, keeping low and constantly looking around. The rest of us follow behind. I keep my eyes on the trees. The bastards could easily be hiding up there, just waiting.

"I think it was just a nuke." Mellish mutters. "Dropped from a fucking helicopter shooting past."

"I agree." Miller mutters. "How'd they find the base?"

No one answers the question. Wade rushes to the first man he sees and everyone follows suit.

"We have to make sure everyone's okay." Caparzo mutters to Mellish.

"Yeah man."

I kneel at the side of a young man, groaning with tears streaming down his face. He's not in too much of a bad shape, a little bit cut but nothing that'll kill him. I check him over once and then twice.

"Listen, we can clean these wounds and you'll be fine, I promise, okay? Look at me?" I grab his face as carefully as I possibly can and make him look at me.

His eyes are wide and his lips tremble furiously as he struggles to breathe. "P – Ple – please." He whispers.

"It's okay, it's okay." I stroke his hair comfortingly. "I'm gonna lift you up, you have to work with me. I'm going to move you towards Wade our medic, okay?"

"O – o – okay." He gasps.

I wrap my arm around him and begin the slow process of lifting him. Soon we're standing upright and I glance around to see the others also doing the same. There are more survivors then I would have thought there'd be.

Within half an hour, we've gathered all the survivors and they're lined up ready to be attended to.

We all move along them, keeping them best comforted. Even Poppy – who's with Upham has re-joined us - who looks as if she may throw up at the sight of so much blood, tries to help the best she can.

"Don't... don't leave me." A man whispers.

I look into his fearful eyes. He's quiet about his pain but it's evident – he's lost an arm and he's covered entirely in blood.

"I don't... I don't know what to do." I say honestly, my eyes darting from his face to his shoulder-stump. I couldn't find his arm anywhere. Would it have mattered?

"It's fine... I know I'm dying. Just... sit with me...? Please?" He breathes; his voice a tiny whisper.

I take his hand in mine. It's cold and sticky with the dark blood. I raise a hand to his head, ignoring the thick blood that coats his hair and stroke in a soothing manner.

"Do you believe in heaven?" I ask.

He nods, eyes blind.

"Good, because that's where you're going. It's better up there. Think about it like that. This world... it's just death. Pain – physical and emotional. But up there... its peace and quiet, it's happiness. You'll be better off up there."

His breathing is ragged, his eyelids shifting slightly as he tries to focus on keeping his eyes open. The pain must be going now, I'd bet anything that he's numb.

"I don't know whether you have any family lost – but they'll be up there, waiting for you, okay?"

"My mother, my father..." He says faintly, his eyes shutting. I can see the faint jump of his pulse in his throat.

"You'll be with them soon." I trail my fingers down his cheek. The blood there is dry and crispy, flaking away at my touch. "You'll be with them. Together in peace and you won't be in this war anymore. You'll be safe."

His final breath huffs out and his hand goes slack in mine. I hold it tight, feeling a pain burning in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I've dealt with death before, plenty of times – this close too. But it still makes my heart ache.

"Hey, he's gone. C'mon." A hand on my arm, a low voice in my ear.

I turn to look up to find Jackson crouched slightly, leaning towards me with concern in his eyes. I nod silently and he helps pull me to my feet.

"Are you okay?"

"Great." I mumble. I glance around at the many that are still wounded. "We have a lot of work to do, come on."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter nine**_

"How many did we lose?" Mellish asks quietly.

Wade shrugs helplessly. I can't help but notice the haunted look in his eyes. Poppy puts a hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner and he looks at her, smiles faintly – but it lacks something.

"We helped all that we could. Plenty survived." Miller says calmly, nodding his head.

I look at the fire. The warmth rolls off it and caresses my skin. I'm possibly sitting closer then I should be, small sparks keep shooting out and fizzling away on my skin. For some reason I don't move away.

"Are they alright though?" Caparzo asks.

"We made them as comfortable as we could." Reiben sighs.

I glance over to where they're sleeping silently. We'd given up our blankets despite having found plenty others that survived the explosion. I'm not entirely surprised that none of them are awake. Most of them are pumped full of morphine and those that aren't – well, they're just plain exhausted.

I run a hand over my face. I pause when I feel something scratchy against my cheek. I look down at my hand to see blood dried along my skin. I stare at it for a few moments and my mind drifts to mama.

Not just mama of course, John and Jimmy too. Any hope of Jimmy being alive long left me. They had her there, there's no way that they wouldn't have killed the baby and just dumped him. Why bother to let it live? They killed all the other children. God damn scum.

John. What if he's dead? What if they shot him as soon as they saw him? The thought of my baby brother, lying dead somewhere wrenches at my chest.

We've always had our difference. I've always been a bit of a bully towards him, bossing him into doing things for me. But that doesn't mean I ever loved him any less.

I still remember the time I talked him into riding the neighbour's horse. I'd wanted to do it for ages – for as long as they'd moved in which had been two years before hand.

The horse had been beautiful, this giant beast that wandered so calmly, grazing the grass and quietly drinking from a small pond.

When I say that I talked my brother into it – I actually threatened him. Told him that if he didn't come with me I'd tell mama about the extra cookie he'd snuck the night before.

It wasn't that I was afraid to do it by myself, it was more the fact that I just wanted John there with me, to have the experience – but I knew he'd never go willingly.

We'd approached the horse and it just stared at us with these huge brown eyes, all wide and innocent. I'd been the first to touch it, John standing behind me – cowering almost.

I remember its fur being war and soft with the slightest roughness to it. Then came the process of actually getting up on it. I got John to kneel beside it and whilst I ignored his fierce trembling, I stood up on his back and climbed on.

I was just so damn surprised that the horse didn't bolt, didn't kick or buck – it just stood there, as docile as the sea without a breeze.

Within ten minutes and with some difficulty, I'd managed to haul John up – and once he was behind me, clinging onto me for dear life, he soon lost his fear. He became as fascinated with the horse as I was.

We went home that day and didn't tell mama or papa. Didn't want to ruin the magic, spoil the moment.

Turned out we didn't need to worry – the owner had known we'd been there the whole time. She'd been watching from a distance. She told us off for being so reckless – but she never told mama or papa.

In fact, if we'd been especially good, she's let us ride the horse. Her name had been Daisy and the horse Dolly. I never forgot them, still haven't.

I blink and find myself in the present day. Everyone's looking at me oddly. Jackson's hand drops as if he'd just been waving his hand in front of my face. I blink again.

"Hmm?"

"You were, uh, sort of out of it there." Wade says softly, eyes slightly narrowed.

I look back down at my hand to find the blood still there. I shrug. "I was just lost in thought. I'm tired."

"You can sleep. There's no need for you to stay awake." Miller says quietly and I'm surprised there's no annoyance – actually, there's more sympathy there.

"I'm just going to check on them first." I nod in the direction of the men. "I'll be back in just a second."

Miller nods his head firmly and I turn from their burning eyes – but still feel them there nevertheless.

All the men that are left – twenty three out of sixty nine – are huddled in one large pile. I take in their faces in the dim light. The moon stands high in the sky – but it's mostly useless, half-shrouded by the heavy clouds that surround it.

I can barely just make out the faces and I flinch when a pair meets mine, wide open.

"Who – who..." The man chokes. He's older then the other's I've dealt with, late thirties most likely.

I bend down and place my hand to his head. His skin burns. "It's fine, we're here to look after you. Just go back to sleep."

"Bu –"

"It's fine. A helicopter will be here to pick you up tomorrow, okay? All of you. Now sleep."

He closes his eyes, obviously too exhausted to fight sleep any longer. I stroke his hair for a few moments more, trying to bring some form of comfort to him.

Finally I stand and circle them once more before deciding that everyone's asleep and well – or just about as well as I can tell.

I sit down once more beside the fire. Everyone's talking but I find it difficult to concentrate. I blink and it lasts several seconds long. How can I be so tired? I haven't done _anything_!

"Hey sleepy-guts." Poppy smiles weakly.

"Hey." I breathe.

I'm surprised when she puts her arms around me. I let it go on for a second before pulling back, smiling tightly. It's simple – I don't want the likes of Reiben or Horvath... or even Miller thinking I'm weak like other women and need constant comfort.

"Do you mind if I sleep next to you?" Poppy asks quietly, her eyes spelling out that she understands.

I hesitate before nodding. She smiles and shifts so that she's lying beside me. After a moment's hesitation I slide down to lie beside her.

I stare up at the sky for a moment. If there had been any stars out and about, they'd be hidden behind the pretty creepy looking clouds.

I glance over Poppy to see the others. Most of them are talking quiet. Wade's and Jackson are already asleep.

I let out a long, tired sigh. The thought of the blood stuck to my skin makes me irritated. I rub my hand up and down my side but when that doesn't work; I begin to pick and pick at the dried blood, wanting nothing more than to be rid of it.

But soon the tiredness washes over me, makes it hard to think straight – hard to even focus on trying to get rid of the disgusting blood. It's all I can think about, all I can smell – it's everywhere. In the sky, the Earth, attached to each of us.

I close my heavy, heavy eyes and darkness takes over, leads me into a blissful sleep, a sweet release coursing through my body.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter ten_**

I wake up to find Poppy snuggled against me, her arms almost cutting off my circulation. I stare up at the slightly lightened sky for a moment. It must be early hours still.

I struggle to sit up, slowly taking Poppy's arms and placing them gently down. I look around at the others. Nearly everyone's asleep – bar Wade who I can't see anywhere.

I stand and stretch, tall and wide. I roll my shoulders as I make my way across to the injured soldiers.

I look down at my bare feet. They ache and I wonder how it's possible they're not in worse shape after all the rough treatment they've received.

I find Wade sitting beside a man who talks to him in a whispering voice. He waves solemnly at me as I draw closer. I take a seat beside him.

"God... forgive me for my sins... I beg... I repent..." The man's whispering words makes my brow draw together.

"You're going to be fine." Wade whispers compassionately, his eyes filled with pain.

The man closes his eyes, his breathing deep and slow. Within a few minutes it becomes obvious that he's fallen back to sleep.

"Are you okay?" I ask Wade quietly.

He runs a hand through his short, fluffy blonde hair and drags in a sigh. "I'll live."

But his eyes say something else. He stands and so do I. He stares at the ground for a moment, opens his mouth as if to say something – but starts to turn away. That look in his eyes is one of such horror that I feel a familiar wrench in my chest.

I place a hand on his shoulder and he turns back. I take a step closer, wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close. He makes a quiet noise of surprise and then a shuddering breath as if he may cry. Then he folds his arms around me and hugs me back.

I've never known a hug that's not been comforting. Wade seems like he needs it more than anyone else. He just seems so distraught through all this, as if it's eating away at his insides – and why wouldn't it?

He buries his face in my neck and his body gives a little jerk. I just hold on tighter.

Finally he seems to have gathered himself. He pulls back, clearing his throat quietly. His eyes are rimmed with red.

"Thank you." He croaks; his voice hoarse.

I give him my best reassuring smile and nod. "If you need anything, even if it's just another hug, ask okay?"

He tries to smile but it's more than a little wobbly. Instead he just nods and coughs again. "I could use your help attending to these guys. At least six are awake and I can't do this myself."

"Okay, I'll just, take a look." I nod and make my way to the first man whose eyes seem to be open.

I kneel beside him and those eyes flicker towards mine. "Are you okay?"

"I'm thirsty." He breathes weakly, struggling to sit upright.

"You can stay down, it's fine. I'll get you some water." I place a hand on his shoulder and gently push him back down. He falls back with a small sigh and I stand.

Back at the camp, Jackson and Mellish are awake and talking in quiet, hushed tones.

"Hey, either of you got some water?" I ask.

Jackson takes out a flask. "Is it for one of them?" He nods in the direction of the men.

I nod. "Yeah, some of them are awake. I'm just helping Wade out."

"We'll be over in a minute to offer our services and all; we're just talking right now." Mellish says softly.

I give a small smile and turn to return to the man. I hand him the flask and help him drink from it. He lets out a small sigh of release.

"Please help me stand. I need to walk." He begs quietly.

"Are you sure? Where are you injured?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"I was lucky. I was on the outside of the explosion – I was just thrown aside. I'm a little bruised and my head hurts – but I'm fine otherwise."

I look towards Wade but he's attending to a boy – his baby-ish face has my head snapping away from the sight of it covered in blood.

"Okay, but just for a few moments." I nod.

I bend over him slightly and wrap my arm around him. It's a struggle to get him to his feet, I almost fall over – but I'm stronger than that. I've lifted heavier. I manage to get him up – but then I stop in surprise when I feel his body tense slightly. The next second and a gun is pressed to my head.

"Good little girly. Now if you know what's good for you, you'll stay good." He whispers, his accent no longer English – instead German.

"Fuck." I breathe; my body tense.

He cocks it and presses it hard against my temple.

"Hey Ash, I need your – whoah! Hey!" Wade is upright suddenly, staring wide-eyed – and reaches for his gun.

"No, no, no – don't you dare!" The man snarls. "You even touch your weapon and I'll shoot her right in her fucking head."

Wade's hand drops and his throat works as he swallows nervously. He looks to the right – and so do I and the filthy German. Jackson, Mellish and Caparazo are walking towards us, heads bent.

They look up towards us, a few feet away and stop when they see exactly what's going on. Which is what exactly? A German somehow managed to sneak in? What does he want?

"What's going on?" Caparazo barks out, like Wade instantly reaching for his weapon.

"Put your weapons on the ground, _now_!" He barks, digging the gun into my temple. I wince and try to jerk out of his grip, to which he only tightens his arm around my throat. "Now, or I blow her brains out."

They all hesitantly put their weapons on the ground, still remaining on full alert and unsure what to do with the situation.

"What do you want?" Mellish growls.

"I want out of here!" He barks.

"What?" Wade asks; confusion across his face – much like the rest of ours.

"I want out. I was caught in the damn fucking explosion – and I haven't been able to get out. So let me leave in peace of I shoot her."

"You may as well shoot me then because there's no way you're going anywhere." I spit.

The others are clearly surprised by my choice of words but there's no way in hell this guy can walk free! He could have his people hanging nearby – they'd be on us straight away.

"You're not in much of a position to be deciding what happens here." He pauses. "Fucking bitch." He adds in German.

He's surprised when I answer in fluent German. "Fucking Bitch? That the best you can come up with?"

He opens his mouth to speak but before he can, I stamp hard on his foot, elbow him in the gut and smack the gun out of his hand. I go to make a move forward – but for once I'm not quick enough. Something hits me in the back, something sharp.

But the adrenaline coursing through my body prevents me from feeling any pain – not any right now anyway. I bend to retrieve the gun, even as the others are reaching for theirs. I turn but before I can pull the trigger – _bang_.

I turn to see Reiben holding a gun, a few feet behind the others. I give him a small nod of gratitude – but my main focus is on my back.

I reach my hand up and jerk the knife out in one swift movement. I stare at the bloodied knife for a moment before I drop it. I stare at my trembling hand for a brief moment before clenching it into a fist and dropping it to my side.

"Hey are you alright?" Jackson asks as the others close in.

I blink and run a bloodied hand through my hair. "Yeah, just great."

"You need to get that looked at, Wade get over here." Caparazo barks out.

Wade moves over from where he'd been checking to make sure the German was dead. He moves across quickly, eyes worried.

"I'm fine." I mutter but my weak protest is ignored.

Thankfully my vest is loose so Wade just pushes it to one side to check the wound. His fingers brush around the edges of it lightly and I wince.

"It's deep, but not too messy. Come sit down." He gestures to the side and I take a seat, him just slightly behind me. "Just got to disinfect the wound..."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mellish asks.

"Yes!" I roll my eyes, slightly breathless. "It's a tiny little wound. It'll heal quickly enough."

"Still need stitches." Wade mutters, gently wiping a cloth coated with alcohol across it.

I wince slightly, gritting my teeth against the sudden sharp pain. He places a hand on my shoulder, holding me still as I squirm, trying to not let out a shout of pain.

"Thank you." I say quietly, noticing Reiben out of the corner of my eye.

He just rolls his eyes. "This is what happens when a woman gets involved with war."

Anger burns through my veins and I narrow my eyes. "So what? You would have done things differently!?"

"I would have known he was German for one." He scoffs.

"No you wouldn't – his English was _perfect_!"

"I'm sorry but I'm just failing to see how you could have fucked up so much."

I make a move to get up but another hand is on my shoulder keeping me down. I shoot an annoyed look at Jackson.

"Leave her alone." Poppy says, appearing out of no-where. She rubs sleep out of her eyes and yawns, taking in the scene quickly. "I don't know what's happened here but I'm sure it wasn't her fault."

"It _was_ her fault." Reiben laughs as if surprised that no one else can see this.

"Drop it Reiben." Caparazo mutters.

"So what, you're all going against me for this idiot?" He barks.

No one says anything for a moment.

"You're being a dick man." Mellish states, shrugging his shoulders as if it can't be helped.

"What the fuck is –"

"Just drop it." Miller's voice echoes suddenly.

We all look towards him to see Horvath and him standing there, looking a mixture of concerned and annoyed.

Reiben opens his mouth to protest but Miller just shakes his head. "Yes sir." He grumbles finally.

"What happened here?" He asks and Caparazo is the first to inform his Captain.

"You don't have a problem with needles, do you?" Wade asks softly.

I shake my head, chewing on my lower lip. "Just get it over and done with."

A moment where he sterilises the needle and then it pricks my skin. My body arches slightly at the delicate pain and Poppy sits in front of me, facing me.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

I let out a small sigh of annoyance. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. The bastard got me but I'm fine."

She holds her hands up in surrender. I roll my eyes. "I'm sorry, I was just wondering. What happened exactly?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "A German got caught within the explosion and wounded. He was with the others and asked me to help him stand. So I did and the next second he pulled a gun out on me."

"What did he want?" Upham asks, like Poppy, appearing out of nowhere.

I shrug. "To leave."

"Why didn't you just let him?" He raises an eyebrow.

We all glare at him, even Reiben who's been standing at the edge of the group, refusing to say another word to any of us.

"What are you, fucking stupid?" I snap at him. "He would have gone and told all his fucking friends – they'd have been here within minutes!"

He shrugs and looks away. "It just doesn't seem right to have killed him when all he wanted was to leave peacefully."

"Peacefully? He had a gun to her head!" Mellish growls, clearly annoyed by this idiot –almost as much as I am.

He just shrugs, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

"I'll tell you what Upham, when someone holds a gun up to your head, threatening to shoot you in the head if anyone takes a step towards you, we'll just let him go." I pause.

"You know he would have taken you hostage too, right?" Wade adds softly, entirely focused on finishing up with the wound.

I nod my head, eyes still narrowed and focused on Upham. "Oh yeah, I know."

Upham's unease grows until it's not longer tolerable. He turns and walks away without another word.

"What a fucking idiot." Jackson mutters, shaking his head in disgust.

"All finished. Try not to jerk your arm around too much." Wade lets out a sigh as he stands.

I stand and stretch lightly, a small pain shooting through my shoulder. I drop my arm and turn around to offer him a smile. It feels as if I've been sitting for hours – despite it probably being no more than ten minutes.

"Thank you." I smile.

"It was the least I could do." He shrugs and I know he's thinking about the moment of comfort I shared with him.

I nod but notice how tired he looks, bags beneath his eyes which are bloodshot. His pale skin seems white – how much sleep did he have last night? Probably not a lot.

A quiet, distant whirring fills the air and I look up into the sky, noticing a small dot blot.

"Helicopter's coming."


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter eleven_**

"Could I talk to you for a moment alone?" I stand before Miller, feeling my gut clenching slightly.

He stops talking to the pilot of the helicopter to give me a glance over. "Will you excuse me for a minute?"

The pilot nods silently and Miller follows me across to a more private area. I take in a deep breath as I turn to him, nervous suddenly that he may say no.

"I wanted to know if... maybe you'd allow me to stay here, become a part of your team maybe." I say in one rushed breath.

He narrows his eyes – but there's no surprise in his eyes, it's as if he knew I would ask him. "What's in it for me?"

"I'd be valued member of your team. I know I'm not always that great at following orders – but that's only been because I never felt I had to. But if I saw you as my Captain, I'd be more obedient."

"Why do you want to stay with us so badly?" He asks curiously. "What's the urgency?"

I bite my lip slightly, my brow drawing together. "I've lost my entire family because of this war. I don't even know if my mother's still alive – but if she is, she's out there somewhere."

"So you want to tag along until you find her?"

"No!" I bark out. "It's not like that. Ever since I was little, my father taught me how to defend myself. I always wanted to put my knowledge to good use – and now I have the chance, the opportunity I've been waiting for."

He hesitates, rubbing a hand along his chin. "You'd follow orders? Do as you're told?"

I nod, despite the thought of constantly having rules to follow. I blink rapidly.

"I'll have to run it through with the team... but it's a strong maybe." He responds calmly, mouth a straight line.

I don't gush; don't blurt out how grateful I am. I just nod silently, my pulse slightly erratic. I don't see why I was so nervous.

But I know exactly why I was so nervous. What would I do if he'd said no? Would I have gotten on that helicopter? Flown away to England? Of course not. I would have stayed here and searched for god knows how long until I was either dead or I found mama. Simple.

"Are you ready to go yet?" Poppy asks, a relieved smile playing across her face.

I bite my lip but before I can open my mouth, her face drops visibly.

"You're not coming, are you?"

"No, I'm not." I let out a small sigh. "I don't belong back in England – I haven't in a long time. My home is here, I belong with this war. It's where my life is now."

"No you don't! There's still a chance for you to come back and start afresh!" She argues.

I shake my head fiercely. "No, I can't. I have to stay here. What else am I supposed to do? Go to England and leave my mama here? That's _if_ she's even still alive."

She swallows. "Then I'm staying with you."

I roll my eyes. "Don't be stupid. You definitely don't belong here, you don't even know how to hold a gun – let alone use one."

"Then teach me. I have no one left in this world – I'm just like you only... with me, I _know_ that everyone's dead."

"No. Okay? If you stay you'll be my responsibility. I won't have your life in my hands."

"But why!? I won't die!" She cries helplessly.

"I have my reasons." I growl. "So no."

"Well it's not up to you anyway!" She snaps, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's up to Captain Millers."

I shrug. "You're right. Why don't you ask him?"

"I will!" She states.

She turns towards him – but he and his team are having a heated discussion, each interrupting to include their own input.

She pauses, mouth opening and shutting. "Uh, maybe I'll wait."

I give her a small, tight smile and nod. She shrugs and takes a step back, arms crossed over her chest and eyes moving around to focus on the two sleek helicopters sitting a small distance away from the rubble.

Already the injured have boarded – although some have decided they want to go back to the main base to continue to take part in the war.

I turn back to look at the others again – the only one I'm worried about having a problem with me is Reiben. I watch the way he argues with Miller and I know for a fact that he doesn't want me tagging along.

I chew furiously on my lower lip, almost hard enough to make it bleed. Being on this team could finally be my chance – the one I need. I could finally prove myself to Papa.

I find myself standing more upright when I notice Miller walking towards me. I swallow hard.

"Welcome to the team Ash." He nods.

"Thank you Captain." I think about saluting but put down that idea pretty abruptly.

"Uh... excuse me?" Poppy squeaks and I roll my eyes.

"Yes?" He raises an eyebrow.

"I was wondering... perhaps you'd allow me to come along too?"

He lets out a sigh and rubs his fingers roughly against his forehead. "You want to come along too?"

"Yes." She coughs.

"And what value do you have to my team?" He questions firmly.

"I, I uh, I learn real okay? I know I'm not good with weapons right now – but give me a few days and... And I promise I'll pick up on!" She blurts out.

He shakes his head. "No, no, _no_ – I can't have you coming along; you'd be nothing but a liberty."

I raise my eyebrows, giving her my best "See?" expression. However that expression soon melts into one of awkward horror as her eyes begin to tear up.

"Pl – _please_ let me come! I have nothing else in the entire world! Nothing at all! I can't – can't go back to England on my own!"

"Oh _God_." He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"P – Please!" She begs softly, eyes shutting, waiting for the final no.

I let out a sigh of frustration and ruffle my hair. "Poppy – the captain said no. I'm sorry, I really am... but you can't come along."

"But – but – but..." She stammers, struggling to get the words through her sudden tears.

I place a hand on her, remembering just how fragile this girl is. "Write to me, okay?"

Her eyes meet mine, the lashes spiky with tears. She lets out a small sob and nods her head, jerking my into a bone crushing hug.

I let out a loud 'oof' but hug her back, feeling a sudden sadness that she'll be going – that I may never see her again.

"Goodbye." She whispers and turns to the Captain.

He stands with a slightly raised eyebrow. She hesitates for a second and then sticks her hand out boldly before her. He takes it with a faint smile, an attempt to be warm, and shakes it.

"Thank you for saving me and taking me here." Poppy says quietly, eyes slightly red but tears now faded.

He just nods, hand dropping to his side, no words needed. She pauses before giving us both a nod and turning towards the helicopter. She climbs aboard and vanishes.

I find myself staring at the helicopter as it becomes nothing but at tiny dot in the far distance.

"I hope it was all worth giving up." Captain says quietly.

"Yes, it was." I breathe, suffocating that sadness in my chest, refusing to wallow in it.

I step back and turn around to be faced with the others – Jackson, Wade, Mellish, Caparzo and Upham. Horvath stands near the helicopters with Miller. Reiben is nowhere in sight, probably stalked off in a mood.

Then come the words I want to hear. Maybe they're saying it all at once and in different ways – but I get the message pretty well. "Welcome to the team!"


End file.
